


Not the End of the World

by ItsaVikingThing



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/F, Fluff, I don't really know what this is, Meet-Cute?, Meet-Weird, it just sort of happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-06 00:10:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10320806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsaVikingThing/pseuds/ItsaVikingThing
Summary: Chloe's taking Rachel to lunch when she spots the strange girl with a sign claiming that the End of the World is Nigh. Chloe decides to talk to her.Because Chloe's bored.Not because the girl's cute.





	1. Apocalypse Not

The first time she sees the girl in the sandwich board, Chloe's taking Rachel to lunch at the Two Whales diner.

To be precise: Chloe's giving Rachel a lift from Blackwell Academy. Rachel's buying the food.

Chloe spots her across the street as she pulls into the parking lot. She's slim, brown-haired and maybe kinda cute. The sign on the front of the board is hand-painted, white letters on a dark background. The sign reads: _The End of the World is Nigh._

As Chloe parks, she realises that she's just blanked on the story Rachel was telling.

Rachel says, "Hey, space cadet! You totally zoned on me there. What's up?"

Chloe kills the engine. "Sorry, I got distracted by the crazy girl. She's kinda young for the apocalypse shtick, right?"

"Huh? Oh." Rachel cranes in her seat and squints at the girl. "I guess?"

Chloe laughs. "I forgot, you're basically blind. Just admit you need glasses, girl."

Rachel folds her arms. "What's that, Chloe? You _don't_ want me to buy you lunch anymore?"

Chloe gasps. "B-but, Rachel...I'd starve! And then you'd be all alone and you'd pine for me!"

"Eh. I'd spruce at most."

Chloe puts on her most pathetic expression, the one where her lower lip trembles.

Rachel shakes her head, but there's a smile threatening. "I'm immune to your wiles, Price."

That, sadly, is true. A year or so back, Chloe drunkenly confessed her attraction to Rachel. Rachel let her down brutally and decisively with a simple, "No. Not happening." Then she'd spent the rest of the night and every day since being Chloe's best friend. The rejection was tough to take, but Rachel's unwavering friendship makes up for it.

The free lunches help, too.

"But if I die, who'll chauffeur you around Arcadia?"

Rachel absently strokes a finger down the length of her feather earring. Her lips are curving upwards. "Hmmm, the school bus _would_ be quite déclassé. But...less chance of getting tetanus than in this rust bucket. I have to be honest, I'm seeing mostly upside here."

"Hey! Don't you insult Sue! She may be a little rusty, but she's got it where it counts."

Rachel raises an eyebrow. "Sue?"

"Yeah, dude. Like the T-Rex in Chicago? Big, prehistoric and fierce!"

"I sometimes forget, what with the blue hair and the skateboarding, that you're a complete nerd." The smile achieves its final form. "Damn it. You're too adorable to be allowed to starve. I shall feed you this day."

"Huzzah!"

They both crack up and abandon Sue for the diner. By the time they're done with lunch, the strange girl is gone.

* * *

Chloe doesn't have much to do when she isn't hanging out with Rachel. She got herself kicked out of Blackwell. She doesn't have a job. The only hobbies that have really stuck over the years involve boarding or blunts. She doesn't really have any other friends.

So when Saturday arrives and Rachel's tied up in homework and Vortex Club bullshit, Chloe's at a bit of a loss. She's out of weed until Rachel can score for them both and it's been raining on and off. She doesn't feel like skating.

She decides, on a whim, to go for a walk along the beach. Maybe take the trail up to the lighthouse. She's got hours to kill before Rachel's likely to be free again. Might as well get some kind of exercise.

She parks Sue in the _Two Whales'_ lot and hops out onto the tarmac. She stretches and looks out over the beach.

That's when she spots the girl in the sandwich board for the second time. She's just wandering up and down, silently proclaiming the imminent demise of the Earth.

Chloe gives the situation considerable thought. Almost a whole second ticks by. She says, "Fuck it," and crosses the street.

Without meaning to, she sneaks up on the girl. Chloe intends to say 'hi' or something equally witty, but she gets distracted by the sign on the back of the sandwich board.

This side reads: _Abandon Some Hope!_ There's more underneath, in smaller letters, but before Chloe can read it, the girl turns round. She jumps, startled.

"Oh! I didn't see you. Sorry!" She blushes and ducks her head as she shuffles awkwardly aside, giving Chloe room to walk past her.

Chloe notices three things. The girl is _definitely_ cute. She doesn't give off a maniac vibe. She has _freckles_. Just a light dusting of knee-weakening, stomach butterfly-summoning freckles.

Chloe says, "It's okay, I wanted to talk to you."

The girl brightens up a little. "Really?" She tries to tuck her hair behind her ears, but the gesture becomes awkward in the sandwich board. She manages her right ear, misses with her left hand and winds up hanging her head and blushing even harder.

She _might_ be crazy, but she's passed the Voight-Kampff test for sure.

"So...is this a cult thing?"

The girl looks up. Her mouth hangs open. Her (pretty) blue eyes widen.

"Why would it be a cult thing?"

Oh, great. Now the crazy girl thinks Chloe's crazy.

"You have noticed what you're wearing, yes?"

"Well...fair. But you didn't read the whole thing, did you?"

She turns around and Chloe reads the small print: _Then Get Off Your Butt and Do Something About It_. There's a web address lettered in neat, though cramped, brush strokes at the bottom of the board.

"Oh, so this is less sinful apocalypse, more global warming? You kinda buried the lede, there."

She turns back, smiling nervously. "Yeah. I, uh...didn't plan the board out that well. And I haven't had many people stop so I can explain that it's about climate change yet." She looks down and shuffles her feet. "You're actually the only person who's talked to me so far."

Chloe feels a little bad for her. Not bad enough to refrain from asking, " _Some_ hope?"

"Well, the situation isn't _totally_ hopeless. Just so long as-"

Chloe grins. "People get off their butts and do something about it?"

She grins back. "Right! And there's a website you can go to with a bunch of info and resources and..." She tilts her head and her nose scrunches up. "Do you think everybody thinks I'm in a cult?" She starts to look worried. "Is that a common problem? Are there are a lot of cults in the area?"

She asks the question with guileless concern. Chloe's quite proud that she doesn't just blurt out, "God, you're cute!"

Instead she says, "There's a couple, yeah. One gathers Friday evenings, the other Sunday mornings."

The girl laughs. It's a nice, warm laugh.

Chloe grins triumphantly. "See, I'm not a fan of either of those, but I have a lot of free afternoons and evenings. I could be in the market for a cult. What sort of benefits does yours offer? Flexitime worshipping? Comfortable robes?"

"Well, let's see," she says, deadpan. "Worship mostly involves taking pictures of cute animals. And sharing them with others, of course. That part's very important. Hours _are_ flexible, suitable for a school schedule-"

"Whoah, hold up! Cute animal pictures?"

"Uh huh." Her arms disappear inside the sandwich board and fumble around. When they reemerge, Chloe's surprised to see she's clutching a bunch of Polaroids.

Chloe takes the proffered pictures and flicks through them. They're all nature shots: squirrels, birds, even a freaking deer! She's caught it with it's head up, eyes bright and neck sun-dappled. It looks poised to run, but the shot's crisp and clear. Perfectly timed.

"Holy crap, dude! These are amazing!"

She shakes her head. "Thanks, but they're just some dumb shots I took this morning." She bites her lip. "I kinda like the deer one, though," she says softly.

"You took all these today? Damn! And, yeah, the deer is the best. I have no idea how you pulled that off with an instant camera. But they're all really good!" Chloe hands the photos back a little reluctantly. "Okay, if your cult has a nice compound, I'm in!"

She laughs again. "Well, I _do_ stay in a pretty nice compound. But I don't have any say in admissions. Sorry."

"Pity, or I think I would've signed up on the spot. You make a good recruiter."

She reaches up and rubs the back of her neck. "Dog! I hope this conversation doesn't get back to Kate."

"Is she the cult leader?"

"No! She's my friend. She's a really lovely person, but a pretty devout Christian. This sort of talk might offend her..."

"Kate...Marsh? Is your compound Blackwell Academy?"

She kinda gapes at Chloe. "Yeah. You know Kate?"

Chloe shrugs. "Just in passing. She's cool, though."

"But you don't go to Blackwell, do you? I'd definitely remember you."

Oh, really? Good to know...

The girl rubs her neck again, blush intensifying and sandwich board clacking. "Uh, yeah. You're pretty memorable!"

Wait, shit, Chloe must've said that thought out loud!

"Uh, I mean...no. I used to go, but...my friend Rachel's still there, though."

"Rachel Amber?"

Chloe nods. "That's the one."

Being outside Blackwell, it's easy to forget that Rachel casts a very long shadow. She loves Rachel, but she can't help but hope that this girl isn't one of her devotees.

"Oh. She's in my photography class. She seems nice. Small world!"

"Nah, just a small town. You seem pretty young to be teaching photography."

She gapes again. "What? Oh, no! I'm just a student. Oh, man, I have _so_ much to learn and...and you were just fucking with me, weren't you?"

"Guilty as charged. But, hey! They can teach a lot of things. Talent isn't one of them."

She sighs, seems to shrink. "I guess."

Chloe panics. "No! Dude, I'm trying to say...you're obviously hella talented! Like, your pictures will hang in museums talented. For real," she concludes lamely, feeling the hot prickle of embarrassment creeping over her skin.

The girl says, "Thanks. That's really...thank you." Then she smiles, and it lights up her eyes.

And Chloe's a little paralysed. She desperately wants to keep this conversation going, but she suddenly can't think of a thing to say.

That's when her phone buzzes.

She tugs it out and sees she's got a message from Rachel.

_Yo, Chlo! Rchng trmnal brdm. Rscu me?_

She runs it through her Rachel decoder and replies, _on my way. u need to borrow some vowels?_

Rachel's response comes in before Chloe can even look up from her phone.

_Nvr!_

Chloe laughs and pockets her phone. She looks up to see that the girl has shuffled away a couple of feet and is looking out over the water. "Hey, I gotta go. It was nice talking to you, though!"

The girl turns and smiles at her. "You, too. I'm Max, by the way!"

"Oh! Right! Chloe, Chloe Price." They shake hands, their motions awkward. Max's hands are a little chilly, but very soft.

Chloe's usually in a mad rush when Rachel calls, but this time she hesitates. "So, uh...see you around sometime?"

"Well, you know where to find me! Hey, wait." She digs around and comes up with a Polaroid. "Here, take this. As a thank you. For talking to me."

It's the picture of the deer. Chloe bites her lip. She really wants it, but...

"I can't take that from you, dude. It's a great shot. You should put it in your portfolio, or something."

Max smiles and insistently shoves the photo at Chloe. "My cult has a duty of share, remember? Take it. Please?"

Chloe does. She marvels at it for a moment, then tucks it carefully into her wallet.

"Thanks, Max. Good luck with the recruiting!"

She laughs. "Take care, Chloe. I, uh, hope we talk again soon."

Chloe's grinning so hard it almost hurts. "Count on it, Max."


	2. Heartsigh

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm having fun playing with a different narrative voice and version of the characters? This probably won't go beyond four or five chapters, but hopefully I'm not making a huge mistake here!
> 
> Anyway, things will get a bit more angsty as Max and Chloe wrestle with their hang-ups, but this is definitely going to stay on the sunnier side of the scale, worry not!

Chloe has to stop on her way to Blackwell to root out her wallet and check.

The picture is still there. All of that just happened.

"Shit." She bites her lip. "Now what?"

* * *

She parks with her usual precision, Sue demanding and receiving three spaces. She texts Rachel to let her know her ride's here. Then she sits and drums her fingers on the steering wheel. She curses Rachel's heel-dragging and jams on the stereo. Doesn't hear a single note of what's playing.

So Max gave her a picture. So what? Doesn't mean anything. She seems nice. Probably gives pictures to everyone she meets. Because she's a little weird, but nice. And hella cute, talented, adorable, pretty... _freckled_.

Chloe groans and drops her head onto the steering wheel.

"She was just being polite. We probably have nothing in common. What do I even say if I see her again?"

Chloe sits bolt upright. "What if I don't see her again?"

Which is when Rachel appears and thumps the window a few inches from Chloe's left ear.

"Agh!"

Rachel skips round the front of the truck and yanks open the passenger door. She hops in grinning. "Hellooooo, Chlo!"

"Hey. Hi. 'Sup?"

Rachel stares at her. She looks at the stereo. She frowns. "Okay, you're freaking about something. Did you have a run in with David?"

Rachel knows her too well. Chloe's attempts at denial are more comforting ritual than serious deflection. "Nah, step-douche was working on his car all morning. I'm okay. You just startled me."

"Chloe. You appear to be listening to Purity Ring. Of your own free will. A band I introduced you to that you promptly dubbed 'perfect fodder for pretentious art-student trash' like me. You're not okay."

Chloe winces and switches off the stereo. "Uh, they're not all that bad, I guess?"

Rachel starts to panic. "Did something happen to Joyce? Just give it to me straight, Chloe."

"What? No! Nothing happened, except..."

"Except?"

"I talked to a girl."

Rachel blinks. She grins and leans towards Chloe. "You're blushing, Price! And totally freaking! Who could this she-stud be to so unwoman you? Let's get out of here and you can tell me everything. I shall not rest until I know all about this paragon of femininity!"

* * *

Rachel has her arms folded and is giving Chloe daggers. "The sandwich board girl? Really, Chloe?"

They're hanging in the junkyard, in their luxury cinder block retreat. Chloe once tried to come up with a good Cinderella-based name for their lair, based on its component parts and the fact that she and Rachel are kinda like pre- and post-godmother Cinderellas, respectively.

No good name resulted, maybe because they were both high at the time. The application of sober thought proved the whole concept less mordantly satirical than depressingly on the nose, anyway. She gave up after that.

"Her name's Max and she's actually really...sweet. I mean, she's a total dork, but in a hella good way."

"Didn't you say she was a crazy apocalypse person?"

"She's not! It was a climate change thing. Dude, you know her!"

"Max? I don't think so..."

Chloe digs out her wallet and carefully extracts the deer picture. "She does photography with you. Look."

Rachel takes the picture. She groans. "Oh, no! You know, I just don't get the appeal."

Chloe grits her teeth. "That's a deer, Rachel. Not her. Get contact lenses, laser surgery-"

Rachel's tone is acidic as she responds, "Chloe, dear, I know it's a doe. I was referring to the photographer. The only Polaroid enthusiast on campus. _Caulfield_."

"Max...Caulfield? Huh."

"You're already running it through the nickname generator, aren't you?"

"Ha! As if." Rachel knows her _far_ too well.

Rachel passes the photo back to Chloe. "Come on, then. Tell me the whole story. Leave out no detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem."

So Chloe does, feeling more than a little awkward at how few details there are.

When she's done, Rachel says, "Well, this is a disaster."

"What do you mean? She's straight? Seeing someone? Vegan?"

"Don't know. Not yet. Stop diet shaming."

"Then what-"

Rachel cracks her knuckles. An unholy light shines in her eyes. Chloe sighs and sits back. Time for some Advanced Blackwell Anthropology.

"What I mean, poor, sweet Price, is that you are but the latest victim of the Hipster Heartbreaker."

Chloe can feel her heart thumping dully down in the pit of her stomach. As those who have borne witness to her eating habits know, it's a deep, deep pit. "What? You're kidding! Right...?"

She must look pathetic, because Rachel's gossip-induced high diminishes somewhat. "Well, yes and no. She seems really shy, actually. She mostly hangs out with Kate Marsh. Hasn't gone to any of the parties or gatherings so far."

"So you just made that up because…you're a sadist?"

"I _did_ just coin it, true. It is minty fresh. But it's also accurate, as you'll discover if you stop interrupting."

"Dude, come on-"

Rachel raises a stern finger. "Ah!"

"Fine!" Chloe huffs and folds her arms. She glowers at Rachel.

Rachel grins. "Better! But don't pout. Anyway, Caulfield's new in town. She's from Seattle, I believe, and has only been with us a month. And she already has people tying themselves in knots over her. A new boy, Warren Graham?"

Chloe shrugs. "After my time."

"He's a science enthusiast and my academic equal, how-dare-he. Well, that young man carries a torch for Caulfield so vast that it can only be seen in its totality from a standpoint on the moon."

"Oh. Does she seem inclined to...uh, be warmed by his torch?" Chloe winces and wishes the words back in her mouth.

"Ew! And, no. She's friendly with him, but that's all. Doesn't stop him trailing after her all over campus." Rachel leans forward, grin broadening. "And he isn't even the one crushing hardest on her."

"Oh God, we talked for like five minutes. I think she's cute. That's all," Chloe lies.

Rachel laughs. "That was super convincing. Well done! But I wasn't talking about you."

"More Blackwell bros?"

Rachel bounces on her seat excitedly. "Better that that! The one, the only: the Queen B of Blackwell herself!"

Chloe's jaw drops. "Victoria Chase? _She's_ flying rainbow colours?"

"I've long suspected, but the way she acts around the Hipster Heartbreaker confirms it."

"Please stop saying that. It's not a thing. I will not let you make it a thing."

Rachel pouts. "Spoilsport."

"It's for your own good. You know you need reining in sometimes."

"Ugh, fine. Maxine, then. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. Obviously. You were telling me about my romantic rival, Victoria freaking Chase?"

Chloe doesn't dislike Victoria for being a rich, spoiled, mean, bullying brat. She hates her for those reasons. But she has to admit, Victoria's gorgeous. And smart. And she's into photography and the art scene. Chloe slumps down in her seat. "This sucks. I need to get high."

"No, no, no! It's not what you think!"

"Huh?"

"She bullies Max constantly."

"The fuck?"

"Victoria's always finding an excuse to snipe at her. She's always getting right in Max's face, too." Rachel jumps up and comes over to Chloe. She leans in, uncomfortably close. "Like this."

Rachel goes back to her seat. "It's classic. Victoria's got no idea how to handle her feelings, so she just lashes out. Honestly, she spends so much time giving Max shit and talking about how much she hates her. It's embarrassing. And hilarious."

"Dude, everything you just said is awful! And it must suck for Max."

"I suppose she does seem pretty terrified of Victoria..."

"God, I do not miss all the bullshit drama. I'm glad I'm out of that dump."

"Well, I'm not. It would be nice to have you around again. Anyway! I'll do it. I'll take the case.

"My brain just got whiplash. What?"

"The Hips...ugh! Maxine Caulfield. I'll talk to her for you."

Hope and panic war in Chloe's head. "Don't! Uh...don't go crazy. I mean, I'll just talk to her if I see her around. Okay?"

Rachel snorts. "Okay, okay. I was just going to sound her out, you know. Nothing bad."

"I appreciate the thought, but...sounds like she's got her plate full, what with two of the smartest people in Blackwell pursuing her. I mean, what do I even have to offer? But...it's whatevah, right?"

Rachel comes to her and nudges her until she moves over. Rachel sits, leaving them both hanging precariously on the chair. She puts her arm round Chloe, leans her head on Chloe's shoulder.

"Listen. My loins may not stir for you, but you're basically my favourite human, Price. You're not second fiddle to anyone. It might not work out, but not because you aren't good enough. Have a little more faith in yourself."

"Jeeze, Rach. Pass me the bucket, quick!" But her heart seems to have ascended to its usual mooring.

Rachel gets up. She grins down at Chloe. "That's not nausea, it's _feelings_. You'll get the hang of them eventually. Unfortunately, I do have homework to finish. Drive me back?"

"Tempting as it is to maroon you for your sass, drive you back I will."

"Don't you Yoda talk me! I just totally Yoda'd _you_ and you know it.

Chloe gets up and slings an arm around Rachel's shoulders. They start to make their way back to Sue.

"It was a good talk. Would've been better if you'd done the voice, for sure."

"Hey. Can I ask you something, Chloe?

"Anything, anytime."

"Do you...really think Purity Ring's not that bad?"

"Of course! Just like fingernails down a blackboard! Through a megaphone. In an echo chamber."

* * *

A couple of hours later Chloe sits on the bench by the lighthouse looking out over the bay and thinking. She gets to work undoing the benefits of her walk in the clean air with a cigarette.

Her phone buzzes. Rachel, obviously.

She looks at her phone. Unknown number?

She opens the message. Her jaw drops.

_Hey! Rachel gave me ur number. Hope u don't mind. Was wondering if you'd like to hang some time?_

There's another buzz. Same number.

_This is Max, btw. Cult girl?_

Chloe laughs. "Rachel! How...? Never mind."

She stubs out her cigarette and, with hands that barely shake at all, she starts typing a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, folks!


	3. This Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this has garnered an incredibly lovely and kind response. Thank you all very much!
> 
> In particular, thanks to sachii for immortalising the moment when Chloe starts to crush like a singularity on Max's sandwich board-wearing ways. Check it out:
> 
> http://melonbreadmondays.tumblr.com/post/158725431422/drew-fan-art-for-the-first-time-in-a-long-while
> 
> Seriously! Thank you again, sachii!

Max has two problems to wrestle with when she gets on the bus back to Blackwell.

One is the sandwich board. It leaves her red faced, not from the effort of lugging it on and wedging it in beside her, but from all the people watching her with their judgy, judgemental eyes.

There's only three other people on the bus, true. But that's six judges! All condemning her simultaneously!

No one says anything, but even so she can't get her earphones in quickly enough.

With Thea Gilmore's voice erecting a sonic barrier between Max and the rest of the world, she's able to relax. Until she starts thinking about her other problem: Chloe Price.

Max isn't the best at making friends. She left some pretty good ones in Seattle. But the bonds formed there occurred over an almost geological timescale as a result of proximity and competing social pressures. Max is grateful to have Kristen and Fernando, but she doesn't feel like she ever did much to make it happen.

She's determined to do better at Blackwell. But so far her closest friends are Kate and Warren. Both of whom she was partnered with during class hours.

Chloe, though... No one forced Chloe to talk to Max. And they had a pretty good talk, right? And...Chloe wants to talk to her again. And Max definitely wants to talk to Chloe!

All positives!

Which is when all of the excruciatingly embarrassing things about their encounter itemise themselves in Max's forebrain.

There's the embarrassment of the sandwich board. At least they straightened that out, but how could Chloe think of her as anything other than a hopeless dork?

There's the embarrassment of the photo. She forced it on Chloe, when it was pretty clear the other girl didn't want it. Either Chloe tossed it as soon as she was out of sight, or she'll forever be carrying around a Polaroid she doesn't want out of some ingrained sense of politeness. Or pity.

And then there's the crowning embarrassment: 'You know where to find me!' Oh, dog, she actually said that. Which means if she's ever going to talk to Chloe again, it'll be because Chloe decides to risk Blackwell security and track her down at school.

Or...

She stares in horror at the sandwich board. "I'm going to have to wear you and walk up and down outside the diner every day now. And I can't change the dumb message, because then she won't recognise me!"

The last working piece of Max's rational brain somehow manages to dam off the flood of neurons to her amygdala before she can drown in adrenaline.

Chloe will recognise Max without the board. Chloe might tease, but she isn't some judgemental ass who'll give her a hard time. Chloe kinda looks scary because she has: (perfect) blue hair, a skull on her t-shirt, (beautiful) tattoos, and big, stompy boots. But Max didn't feel brave for talking to her. She felt braver having Chloe near her.

Because Chloe's friendly, outgoing, warm, funny...tall...

Max feels about her body how she does about her wardrobe. It's not the prettiest or most stylish, but most days she likes it and it's comfortable to slouch around in.

Chloe, though, has that lean muscularity built around a strong core that gives her every movement seemingly molecular-level certainty.

Not to mention she has nicely toned arms.

Max bites her lip.

Chloe probably has nice abs, too...

Crimson-faced, she jerks her thoughts away from Chloe's anatomy. She wonders where that thought came from. She murmurs, "Where was that thought _going_?"

Somewhere awkward. Somewhere...welcome.

Max is so lost in her thoughts she almost misses her stop. She scrambles to get off the bus, relieved not to have made a scene. Then she realises, just as she's stepping off, that she forgot the sandwich board. She babbles an explanation to the driver and rushes back to her seat.

It requires seventeen seconds of frantic effort to get the sandwich board unwedged. She feels the judges adding to her punishment during each and every tick of the clock. By the time her feet touch the sidewalk, Max feels like she's been sentenced to clumsy loserdom, across all possible realities, until the end of time.

* * *

Max climbs the steps up to the school grounds and begins her trudge to the dorms.

Thea's singing "Holding Your Hand" when Warren materialises in front of her. "Max! Over here!" He waves vigorously. He's so much like an enthusiastic puppy that Max can't help but smile and wave back.

She extracts her earphones. "Hey, Warren. How's your Saturday?"

"Getting better by the second! I was engaged in some aerial reconnaissance of Blackwell, and then I was going to unleash the full might of my eclectic, pilfered movie collection on a deserving, yet sceptical audience. But now you're here, and that means I will have a worthy and receptive mind to induct into pop culture paradise!"

"Oh! Uh...cool?" She thinks about it for a second. "Drone flying and movie night?"

"You got it, Maximus Prime!"

"Well, that sounds like..." A date. With Brooke Scott. Is Warren inviting her to crash their date?

Sure enough, Brooke strolls into view, drone and remote in her hands. She looks as happy to see Max as usual. "Hey, Max."

Max manages not to retreat. "Hi, Brooke! How's she flying today?"

"She isn't. Anymore."

Warren taps Max's shoulder. "Anyway, you're in, right?"

Max hesitates. The look Brooke gives her is not cutting. It merely promises that there will _be_ cutting, with reference to anatomical charts, depending on how Max answers.

"Um, actually Warren, I've got some homework to do. And I really need to redesign the board." She holds the offending object up. "I don't think it's getting the right message across."

Brooke snorts. "I could've told you that, Max."

Given that the whole idea came about during a conversation in Ms. Grant's class between the three of them...yes, she really could have.

Max decides to keep things positive. "Well, if you've got any suggestions, Brooke, I'd appreciate it. I need the help!"

"Can't. Movie night." Brooke shrugs.

Warren's expression brightens. "I can totally help you with that! With my science skills and extreme punitude, we'll have people flocking to you in no time!"

Brooke scowls and moves closer to Warren. "You can't. Movie night!"

"But Max needs help! And climate change _is_ the most important issue of our time!"

Brooke's knuckles whiten around her tech. Max imagines lacerating shards of plastic in her immediate future. "No, Warren. I don't want to get in the way of your plans with Brooke."

Warren laughs. "It's no trouble!"

Max shoots Brooke a pleading look. She attempts to telepathically broadcast, 'Mercy! I'm trying!' She changes her grip on the sandwich board, just in case she needs a shield. Or a weapon.

Just then a new voice rings out. "Maxine Caulfield! The very girl I've been looking for!"

Rachel Amber bears down on her with a grin that makes Max feel like she's a bit player in a _Jaws_ sequel.

Max tries to avoid the pretty, popular people. Instinct and bitter experience, recently reinforced by Victoria Chase, suggest it's a solid policy. But...Rachel is Chloe's friend. This could be a good chance to find out more about Chloe. And maybe make a new friend in Rachel?

Max stands her ground. "Hi, Rachel...um, what's up?"

"Oh, I just want a quick word in your ear." Rachel turns her blinding teeth on Warren and Brooke. "Hi! Cool drone, Brooke! Warren, we simply _must_ get to know one another properly. Another time! Right now I need to steal Max. You won't deny me, will you?"

Warren blushes and stammers, "Uh, w-well...we were going to sandwich movies..."

"Sounds fascinating! You should begin _immediately_." She puts a hand on Max's shoulder. "Don't let us hold you back!"

Brooke, hands full, looks like she briefly considers biting Warren to get his attention. She settles for raising her voice. "Come on, Warren. I need a hand with my drone."

Warren shakes himself. "Oh, okay. Uh, see you later Max! Come by if you want to experience cinematic curation of the highest level!"

"Uh, yeah. Bye, Warren! Brooke!"

Brooke has to kick Warren before he turns away and they both head off in the direction of the dormitories.

Max groans. "Now I'll have to sneak into the dorms later. And I know I'm going to trip over this board!"

She jumps when Rachel clears her throat. "So, Maxine. You and Warren, eh?" Rachel waggles her eyebrows.

"Huh? What about him?"

Rachel's smile loses some of its wattage. "What about...the mountain-pulverising crush he has on you?" She waggles her eyebrows again, with just a hint of desperation.

Max blinks. "What? Nah! I mean, he and Brooke are perfect for each other, right? Why would he...? Me? Really?"

Rachel's smile ebbs further. "Yes? I thought you were just making him sweat. But you're either an evil genius, or..."

Max slumps. "Completely bone headed? No wonder Brooke looks mad at me all the time."

Rachel laughs. "Scott certainly has a fearsome scowl." She sweeps her ad-worthy golden hair behind her shoulders. "Still, you could totally make Warren your own, you know."

Max blushes. "I don't think so."

She really doesn't. Irrespective of whether she wants that (which, on picosecond's consideration, she does not), relationship stuff eludes her. She understands the phases in theory, but has no grasp of how to achieve any of the intermediate steps between singledom and snuggledom in practice.

"You're being modest! You just need some advice, a makeover..."

Max closes her eyes as Rachel's voice washes over her. So it's the same old story. When Rachel pauses for breath, Max says softly, but firmly, "I don't understand why people like you feel the need to patronise me, but if that's all this was...just...please. Leave me alone."

She opens her eyes to find Rachel gaping at her. Max hunches her shoulders and walks away.

"Wait! Please!"

She looks back warily. Rachel's cloud of smug has entirely evaporated.

"I didn't mean it like that, I...sorry. Shit, she'll be so mad if I've screwed this up!"

Max is still suspicious, but Rachel's words have squeezed a chemical trigger in her brain that makes her stomach churn and her mouth dry. She swallows. "What do you mean? Who'll be mad?"

Rachel sighs. "Can we try this again?" She thrusts out her hand. "Hi, I'm Rachel Amber. I'm sometimes a complete asshole. I'll try to be better, if you'll give me a chance?"

Max hesitates. She juggles the board and shakes Rachel's hand. "Hi, I'm Max Caulfield. Um, never Maxine, please. I'm pretty bad at basic human interaction, so don't expect too much."

Rachel laughs and relinquishes her hand. "You sell yourself short, Max. Look, I...was trying to get a feel for you. You see, my friend Chloe said you were cool. And...well, she likes you, Max. But she's been let down before. I guess I was trying to vet you, or something. Don't...don't hold me against her, okay?"

Chloe's been talking about her? Chloe thinks she's _cool_? Chloe...likes her?

"Uh, wowser! Well, I'm not going to hold you looking out for a friend against anybody. And Chloe's really..." Funny. Exciting. Kind. Beautiful. _Tall_. "I...didn't think I'd made that much of an impression. Well, not a _good_ one, anyway."

Rachel murmurs, "Totally beginning to get the appeal."

"Huh?"

"Nothing! I just...can see why Chloe likes you. Now, would it be fair to say you'd like to speak to her again?"

"Yeah, she's really nice. I was...kinda kicking myself for not giving her my...uh, a social media handle or something."

Rachel's grin reappears, though it's not quite so scary this time. "Well, as penance for my earlier bitchiness, let me give you her number. Trust me, she'll be thrilled to hear from you." Rachel gets her phone out and starts scrolling through it.

Max decides she'll take the initiative for once. "O-okay. If you're sure she wouldn't mind...here." Max downs board and gently plucks the phone from Rachel's hands. She begins to input her number. "Why don't you text it to me? Then I'll have yours, too."

Rachel looks momentarily taken aback, and Max feels a surge of panic. "If you want...it'd be nice to have another friend around here, but you don't have to..."

Rachel smiles gently, and says, "Sounds good. Thanks, Max." She takes her phone, her fingers blur, and Max's pocket chimes.

"Okay, well, it was...interesting talking to you Rachel. I'm gonna go dump my stuff." And text Chloe. And _not_ freak out. "Talk soon, though?"

"Definitely! Take care, Max!"

Max waves and starts off towards the dorms.

She manages five paces before she stops and looks back. Rachel's just standing there, looking up at the sky.

"We're both headed the same way, aren't we?"

Rachel laughs and looks around. "I wasn't going to say anything. I can stay here for a bit, if that's less awkward?"

"Come on. You can walk me there."

"Excellent!" Rachel bounds towards her. "If you're going to be part of Price's life, I really must find out everything about you! Right now!" She takes in Max's defensive stance. "Or, uh, at a pace you're comfortable with?"

Max laughs and relaxes. "Only if you tell me more about yourself, too. Deal?"

Rachel gives her a sly look. "Or maybe for now I could just tell you some things about Chloe Elizabeth Price?"

"Oh! Uh, okay!"

Max blushes. Rachel grins.

* * *

Later, in her dorm room, texts happen. Then, the awful wait.

Max grabs Captain, her one-eyed teddy, and logs on to her favourite camera site. Not even the combined powers of an article on Lomography and bear cuddles can steady her nerves, though.

Thankfully she isn't left in suspense for long. When the message tone chimes she jumps and grabs her phone.

_Yo, Max! We should def hang! I hear ur new, so if u need the best eats or a tour guide, hit me up! Chloe_

Max grins like an idiot without, for once, feeling like an idiot.

She gives Captain a giddy squeeze. She hits Chloe up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for tuning in! 
> 
> I have a busy weekend ahead and I'm behind on another thing, also I am now cursed with higher quality standards (though not on this sentence, obvs), so the next update is going to take a bit longer. I'll get it into your intertubes as quick as I can, though!
> 
> PS Max probably has either a carefully curated Thea Gilmore playlist, or just that one song on an endless loop. She'd probably point out that _Rules for Jokers_ contains a few songs relevant to her life, though.


	4. Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back!
> 
> It took me a few goes to find my way into this chapter. 
> 
> I had to write so many variations of flustered Pricefield banter.
> 
> Torture. Pure torture, I tells ya.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Muscle memory guides Max's hand to the snooze button. Regular memory makes her decide to kill the buzzing, bleeping horror outright.

Early morning will not have her. Not this day!

Even in the groggy liminal state her alarm has brought her to, Max knows that this is Sunday. The best of days. No one expects anything of her on Sundays. She need not set foot outside and run the risk of the world, with all its traps for the congenitally unwary.

As she drifts in the shallows of waking, awaiting the returning tide of sleep, her subconscious sees fit to snigger and mutter something rude.

She husks, "Huh?"

No answer. She doesn't need to be up for at least another hour. She's got no plans this morning.

Max sighs and burrows deeper into her pillow.

No plans except sleeeep.

And breakfast with Chloe, obviously.

Twenty minutes later she sprints haphazardly towards the bus, face bright red.

Max is shower damp. Her teeth and hair are vaguely brushed. Her clothes are on the right way round. Mostly. The keening wail of panic resonating in her bones is, thankfully, externally subaudible.

It's a better than average start to the day.

* * *

Chloe lies in bed and tries to psych herself up.

She feels the urgent, brain-itching need for the cigarette she's not going to smoke.

She feels concerned.

It seems that no matter how often Chloe tries to learn from her mistakes, no change results in her behaviour. She simply becomes too busy in any given moment to spare any processing power for consideration of how the following _moments_ might be affected by her actions. 

Which is to say that Chloe's been blindsided, once again, by that complete _dick_ , past Chloe.

Past Chloe was so proud of navigating a lengthy (too brief) text exchange with Max which resulted in Plans. Plan one: breakfast at the diner. Plan two: show Max around. Plan three: who the fuck plans that far in advance?

Present Chloe is furious that the jackass forgot Joyce's work schedule. Now she's about to meet her crush for only the second time and Chloe will have to introduce Max to her _mother_.

Thanks, past Chloe! _Great_ idea!

Chloe's phone buzzes. She sighs with relief when she sees that it's not Max, looking to cancel. It's just Rachel.

That gives her pause. Rachel has suffered a number of indignities as a consequence of being Chloe's friend. Until now, though, she has never been "just" Rachel.

She accepts the call.

"Uh, hey, Rach! What's up?"

"Hi, Chloe. You're meeting Max today, right?"

"Yeah, pretty soon. Listen, thanks for whatever you said or did. I solemnly vow to never doubt your powers again. Except, of course, for every musical recommendation-"

Rachel laughs. It's not a Rachel laugh, riding warm and throaty on a wave of honey. It's a _nervous_ laugh, one that cracks like a stale breadstick during a bad blind date.

"Yeah, about that. Just real quick, I forgot to tell you...I kinda screwed up and made Max mad? Well, actually, sad. Like, devastatingly but somehow dignifiedly sad? I mean, God...her eyes are enormous, Chloe, and her tears shimmer like they're animated by Miyazaki-"

"Pognophobia!"

There's a pause.

Rachel says, with judicious horror, "Did you just use your safe word on me? Like, your _bondage_ safe word?"

" _Yes_! Because I feel unsafe! Very unsafe, Rach!"

"Price. The images you've given me...no, scarred me with-"

" _Rachel_! What the hell happened with Max?"

"Well, everything's fine _now_! Max really is a sweetheart. We're great buds. She's totes being fast tracked to bff. But...I maybe had to tell her you like her? And I'm not sure, because she's really obtuse, in an adorable way, but...she might think this is a date? So, heads up?"

"The fuck? No, no, no...what? Rachel, come on!"

"Just roll with it, Price. Gotta go! Have fun! See you! Love you! Bye!"

Which leaves Chloe staring at her phone and wondering how she's supposed to manage, without weed, to mentally prepare for Schrödinger's date.

* * *

It's Max's first time going into the diner. She's always liked the look of the place, but she felt awkward about taking in her sandwich board.

The Two Whales looks like the designer wanted to distill the most essential elements of the American diner into one compact space. It's at once retro and timeless. Familiar, but with its own distinct charm.

Max loves it.

It's really busy. Too busy to risk taking photos. But Max and her Polaroid will be back. She will have her revenge!

Well, she'll wait until it's quiet some time and take a few snaps while praying nobody notices or says anything.

That's about the limit of her typical dreams of vengeance.

There's no sign of Chloe.

There is, however, a familiar figure sitting at a booth near the (squee!) analogue jukebox. Max waves and says, "Hey, Kate!"

Kate Marsh looks up from her book and bestows the benison of her smile on Max. "Hey, Max! I see you've finally found the best diner in Oregon! Do you want to join me?"

Max slides gratefully into the seat opposite Kate.

Kate's a delightful combination of non-judgemental Christian, talented artist, tea enthusiast, violinist, and bunny mommy. Other than Ms. Lowe, their photography teacher, Kate's the best thing about Blackwell.

A tall waitress approaches Max with a steaming coffee pot and a warmer smile.

"Welcome to the Two Whales diner. You must be new in town. So welcome to Arcadia Bay, while we're at it. Coffee?"

She has a soft Southern accent, a motherly cadence, and fresh coffee. She's fast becoming Max's new favourite adult.

"Thanks! And yes, please. This diner is amazing! I hear you do the best food in town, too."

The waitress chuckles. "Well, aren't you sweet? If the food meets those high standards, I hope you'll come back often. We could use more classy ladies like you two around here. I'll give you a minute to check the menu, and then you can get to the taste test!"

She heads off to make her rounds, providing caffeine to weary travellers like a straight edge St. Bernard.

Max says, "Wowser! She's so nice! I was pretty nervous about coming here, but today's off to a good start."

"That's Joyce. She's an Arcadian treasure. But why were you nervous, Max? Is anything wrong?"

"No, no! I'm just...meeting someone. I, uh, want it to go well."

Kate's face lights up and she leans forward. "Are you on a _date_ , Max?"

Max's anxiety is a faithful companion. It never leaves her alone for long. And Kate's innocent question is one that her anxiety has been asking since the glee of making plans with Chloe abated.

"I...don't know. I only met her yesterday. Maybe we're just hanging out, but...I think I kinda want it to be a date?"

"Her? Oh. Well...whoever she is, she's lucky Max. Try not to worry about what it is, or isn't. Just have fun!"

Max blushes and rubs the back of her neck. "Uh, thanks Kate. You're too much, sometimes. Hey, I know this isn't an official meeting, but you know what might help with my stress...?"

Kate laughs. She rummages in her bag and produces her phone "Well, I do have some new shots, as it happens. Come on!"

Max eagerly climbs out of the booth and joins Kate on the other side of the table.

* * *

By the time Chloe makes it to the diner, Max is already there.

Lateness is not how she wanted to start the date. The day! Start the _day_!

"Fucking _damn_ , Rachel!"

She's with someone. No, she's with _Kate Marsh_.

While they were never more than acquaintances, Chloe's always respected Kate. She's a staunch Christian, but she always seems to live up to the best aspects of her faith, not use the worst of them to look down on others.

Still, if Max decided to bring Kate Marsh as a chaperone, that's not so much a warning sign as a full on military roadblock. Chloe's relief at determining the quantum state of her meeting with Max is, appropriately, measurable only on a quantum scale. Her disappointment that it isn't a date, however, is easily measurable by the crudest of conventional metrics.

It sucks. A lot.

The girls are sharing one side of a booth. They're facing Chloe, but they're absorbed in something on one of their phones.

God, Max seems to have grown prettier since yesterday. Maybe it's the lack of sandwich board. Maybe it's the soft smile that whatever's on the phone elicits. Maybe it's just the effect of those freckles, in real life, that not even an eidetic memory could replicate.

Chloe wipes her palms on her jeans.

She takes a deep breath.

She goes in.

* * *

Max has an established protocol with Kate. Whenever they meet for tea, the first item on the agenda is: Update on Alice the Bunny's Fluffiness. Everything else is considered, if there's time, under AOCB.

They're going over the latest trove of Alice pictures on Kate's phone, in an unending quest to find the cutest one. They're both startled when Chloe vaults into the bench on the other side of the table.

"Morning, Maxy lady! And is this a Kate Marsh I see before me? How's tricks, girl?"

Kate says something. Probably words. English words.

But...

Chloe is all lithe, loose limbs, husky voice, gleaming grin, bright eyes. She's the embodiment of unfettered. She's breathtaking and life giving.

Max's fingers twitch, trying to click the button on her Polaroid even though her hands are empty.

Chloe's looking at Max. She's starting to look worried. Maybe because Max hasn't said anything?

Max should really say something.

"Uh..."

The waitress bustles over at that moment and snaps, "Chloe! Take a seat at the counter. Leave these girls alone!"

Max finds her voice. The volume control is set to 'too loud'. "No! Chloe and I are together!" She eases down from eleven. "Hi, Chloe. You...kinda startled me, is all."

Chloe is giving Max a weird look. So is Kate. So is the waitress.

The waitress' is the weirdest. She looks...Confused? Hopeful? Excited?

"Oh? Oh!" She turns to Chloe. "You kept _that_ quiet, honey."

Max blinks. She tilts her head, hoping to stimulate cognition. She looks at Chloe.

Chloe is quite red. She swallows. She croaks, "It's so not what you think. Uh, Max Caulfield, meet Joyce Price. My mom. Mom, don't..."

"Delighted to meet you _properly_ , Max! Oh, Chloe! Your girlfriend's such a lovely young woman! Why didn't you tell me about her?"

Encoded in Max's DNA is the belief that she will never truly excel at anything.

So, even now, sinking into the diner seat and hoping that the scratched vinyl will part and allow her to descend into the quiet depths of the restful earth, Max understands that this isn't the single most embarrassing moment in human history.

It probably falls just outside the top one hundred.

* * *

Chloe's not the biggest fan of straightening things out, but she manages somehow.

Max makes some strange sounds and races to the restroom as soon as the first awkward explanation fumbles off of Chloe's tongue.

Joyce has the grace to look chagrined and meekly accepts Chloe's order. She retreats behind the counter without another word.

Kate gets up, too. She says, "I'm sorry, Chloe. I have to go to church. It was...nice seeing you, though."

"Uh, yeah. You too, Kate. Seriously. Sorry to interrupt your breakfast with my...forever alone gay drama."

Chloe slumps forward and lets her head thump down onto the tabletop, heedless of the peril of cutlery.

She looks up when Kate puts a warm hand on her shoulder. "You don't need to apologise. And..." She bites her lip and darts a glance towards the restroom. "Be gentle with Max."

Chloe lifts her body up enough to shake her head. "Dude, _she_ didn't do anything! I just hope she even wants to talk to my loser ass again."

"You didn't leave Blackwell with the best reputation, Chloe..."

"I wouldn't hurt her, Kate! Jes-uh...jeeze..."

"I believe you. Because I remember you. You were never a bully. And your friendship with Rachel...well. Anyone with eyes to see knows you're a good person, Chloe."

Chloe's _heard_ of radiant smiles. She's read about them. She understands the metaphor and what it purports to. But she's never seen one.

Until now.

Kate's smile can be described in no other way.

"Uh...thanks, Kate. I...wish I'd gotten to know you better at Blackwell."

"It's not too late to make friends, Chloe. And...um...I definitely think there's still hope for you and Max, too. Good luck! Tell Max I'll see her soon."

When she goes, some of the light goes with her.

That's mostly down to the big rig that pulls up outside and blocks the window. But even so!

Chloe feels new determination to salvage this mess course through her.

Time for a new plan.

"Hey, mom! Can we doggy bag this breakfast up?"

* * *

When Max has applied enough cold water to her face to reduce the imminent risk of her cheeks overheating and burning out her brain, she ventures back into the diner.

Kate's gone.

Worse, so much worse, Chloe is waiting for her by the door.

Breakfast is off, then. Everything is off. This is a new land speed record in Max fucking up something good.

Before Chloe can let her down gently, Max says, "Um, sorry about that. I...think I'm probably just going to go back to Blackwell. I do have...stuff to do."

Crying. Hugging Captain. Wishing she'd slept through her alarm.

Chloe seems caught off guard. "Oh. Uh, shit. Are you sure...?"

No. "Y-yeah. I should...yeah..."

Chloe's face tightens. "Yeah, can't blame you. Hang on a sec, though. I'll give you a lift."

Chloe walks stiffly to the counter. Max avoids Joyce's eye and thinks about running.

The flaw in _that_ strategy, of course, is that the bus is her only means of escape. The bus stop is about thirty yards away. Right outside the parking lot. She's stuck.

Chloe comes back with a bag in her hand. "Come on," she snaps.

There's more anger in those two syllables than Max would have thought possible.

She trails after Chloe, out into the insultingly pleasant morning.

Chloe leads her to a big, old, rusty pickup truck. She fumbles for her keys and curses when she drops the bag.

Max picks it up. She meekly holds it out to Chloe.

Chloe stares at her, confused. She sighs some of her anger away. "Just keep it. Mom really does make the best eats. You can have mine, too. I'm...not hungry."

Max tries to process this information through her haze of misery. "You got us breakfast?"

Chloe sighs again and leans against her truck. "Well, I was going to show you the sight, but I can't really blame you for not wanting to hang with me after that."

"I know, I'm a loser...wait did you say, 'sight'?"

"Welcome to the sticks, Max! There's really not many interesting things to see."

Max rubs her neck. She shoots a nervous glance at Chloe. "Oh, I don't know about that," she says quietly.

Chloe suddenly pushes off the truck. "Wait. Hold up. Why are _you_ a loser?"

"Are you kidding? I mean, that probably isn't the worst thing I've ever said or done. But that's all the more reason to avoid being near me..."

"Uh, no! I don't want to avoid you! It was kinda awkward, but I'm the one who sprang my mom on you. And _she's_ the one who jumped to conclusions."

"Oh. I...I did kinda phrase things badly, though. But, your mom's really cool, Chloe. Um. You're not...I dunno...mad at me?"

"Of course not! I just...look, Max. I've been stressing because I wanted this to go well, and...that was not the smoothest, y'know?"

"Agreed! On all counts."

Chloe coughs out a laugh. "Okay! Shit! Dude, I thought you were bailing on me!"

"I thought you wouldn't want to...man! Well, we're both idiots. We've got that in common."

Chloe grins at her and Max finds her pulse restored. Her senses function again. She can think, more or less clearly, even if she can't see past Chloe right now.

But...who would want to?

Chloe rubs her hands together briskly. "Okay! That's enough navel-gazing bullshit. How about this? I'm going to take you to the lighthouse. There's tons of cool things for you to shoot along the way. We'll talk. We'll eat. We'll hang. No moms, no friends, no horny middle-aged truckers leering from the next booth."

Max giggles. "No booths!"

"No menus! No walls! No one to stop us! And...no pressure. Just Max and Chloe, on an adventure even a hobbit would approve!"

Max suspects her eyes are lit up like a rich seam of mithril under the light of a dwarf's lantern. Still, she makes a show of pursing her lips and stroking her chin. "Hmm, I dunno...it all depends...book or film?"

Chloe snorts. "Oh, girl, please. You know I'm going to say all the way _hella_ book."

It's an effort, but Max manages not to swoon.

"Okay! Let's do this!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for reading!
> 
> I'm seriously blown away by the response to this. You're all so kind!
> 
> See you next week, folks!


	5. Max et Chloe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here it is.

They find a nook on the beach where they can shuck styrofoam and eat breakfast. They look out to the sea and the sky and all the world that curves shyly away from their gaze.

Like the wind that morning, their mealtime conversation is a thing of lulls and flurries.

Max has the Belgian waffle. She declares Joyce a true culinary wizard.

Chloe laughs and says, "She's an Istari, for sure. Joyce the Hash Brown!"

Max is relieved as much by Chloe's nerdiness as the jackal-like ferocity with which she devours bacon.

It's not an attractive eating habit, but that's not a complaint. Everything else about Chloe is so very attractive, Max is starting to suffer from sensory overload.

They (Max) dispose of their trash responsibly. 

Chloe takes them to the trail to the lighthouse and nerves start to get the better of both of them again.

At one point, as they walk, Chloe takes Max's hand to help her over a fallen branch. When they clear the obstacle, they each wait for the other to let go.

* * *

Chloe is keenly aware of Max's left hand. Her palm is soft, her fingers intriguingly callused. Chloe's not sure if Max even knows that they're holding hands, but she is sure that she isn't going to draw attention to the situation.

Chloe asks, "So what was Seattle like?"

Max hesitates. Nervous Chloe emerges in breathy, saucer-eyed snarking. "I'm just a simple, small-town girl...is it really true that there are buildings that go all the way up to the sky?!"

Max's laughter is more addictive than any substance Chloe's ever consumed. And that's a list that includes, but is not limited to, caffeine, alcohol, bacon, pot, cigarettes, and maple bacon. She needs to make Max laugh more, much more, as often as possible, a lot.

Max says, "Those legends are _true_ , child. Though, technically all buildings do that, don't they?"

"I ask for poetry and you return pedantry? Boo and for shame, Max!"

Max gets quiet and Chloe risks a panicky squint at her. She doesn't look upset. Her eyes are faraway and her lips make the shapes of unrealised syllables.

Looking at Max like this is dangerous. Her face has a higher risk factor for addiction than her laugh.

Max's lips suddenly twitch into a pleased smile. She says, "Like cherry blossoms, coffee-shops litter the streets. Though none have fallen."

"Was that...?"

Max lets go of Chloe to strike the least threatening action pose Chloe's ever seen. "I know haiku."

Chloe isn't given to giggles. She's taken by one this time, though. "Oh, man! Seventeen syllables of justice!"

Max unfussily slips her hand back into Chloe's as they resume their walk. Chloe's heart skips in the sudden sunny meadow of her body.

Max says, "Dude, that's so going to be my college band's name!"

"You're a musician, too?"

Max rubs her neck. "I love music, but...not really."

"I did not hear a no." Chloe bumps shoulders with Max. "'Fess up, girl! What's your instrument? Tubular bells? Jazz triangle?"

"Hipster acoustic guitar. I'm thinking about branching out into Metal kazoo, though."

"Oh, the thrashing you could do! So, you play guitar? That's awesome!"

"Barely. Badly. Just for fun."

"Oh, you mean you're on the verge of going pro?"

"Not at all! Why would you think that?"

"Well, you said the same thing about your photos, and...damn, dude. No joke. Don't you know how good you are?"

"Stop, please! I...I've got a pretty good eye. I guess. But-"

"Sorry, Max. You fucked up." Chloe fumbles out the deer photo with the thumb and forefinger of her free hand. "You gave me actual proof of your talent. I'm gonna wave this in your face any time you get all self-doubty."

"I hope your schedule's clear. You might need to do that a lot." Max looks at the photo, smiling. "I can't believe you kept it!"

"Of course I did! It's stunning, like...uh, you know, you don't have to worry, by the way. I can probably make room in my calendar for you. When are you at your doubtiest usually? Let's pencil something in."

Max laughs again. "Are you free this week? Like during every occasion I have to communicate with humans?"

"Whaaat? Dude! You're a natural with humans! Kate really cares about you. Rachel was singing your praises. I'm a fan, too, Max."

"Well, then. I guess you can stay. And not just because I'd get lost and eaten by a bear without you."

"You're in greater danger from the squirrels in these parts. But I'll guard you from their twitchy ways, never fear."

"I don't, so much. When...I have a bodyguard, that is."

The way Max looks at her, the way she says that, sets Chloe's cheeks to a temperature that could burn through three feet of permafrost at a single application.

"Well, I'm free whenever you need me. Just light up the Max Signal and I'll come running."

* * *

Max is impressed that she's keeping up with the conversation. So much of her mind is focused on the way she and Chloe are, y'know, holding hands.

No big deal.

Some idle thought is also being spent in wondering how many cities she could power with the electricity running up and down her arm.

"So, what about you? What does Chloe Price do when she's not bodyguarding budding photographers?"

If Max has a true talent, it would appear to be for saying the wrong thing. Chloe's face doesn't fall. It winters.

"I...skate."

"That's so cool! Oh, I'd love to get some shots of you in action!"

"Oh? Uh, sure, I guess...I also hang with Rachel. I smoke. I...have no life, to be honest."

Max tries not to let concern into her voice. "Oh, come on! That can't be true."

Chloe's been giving Max these little looks when she thinks Max isn't paying attention. Like Max is paying attention to much of anything _other_ than Chloe. But this time there's worry in her eye and the way her teeth meet her lip.

"It sort of is, Max. After I got expelled from Blackwell-"

"Wait, expelled? Chloe, what happened?"

Chloe sags. Her feet start to drag.

"Huh. Well, I'm _kinda_ glad you're hearing it from me. I guess."

Max wants to squeeze her hand, wants to say something. But she doesn't want to do the wrong thing. So she waits.

Chloe's quiet for a minute. Exactly one minute. Max counts.

"The short version is, I gave up on school and Principal Wells was happy to return the favour. I'm, like, the only person in living memory who's pulled that off, too. I...went through a rough patch. Shit, I _am_ a rough patch, Max. I've got no job. No real prospects. I'm living with my mom and my beloved step-douche. God, saying it all out loud like that...I'm a complete loser. Why would you even-"

Max stops walking and tugs on Chloe's arm. "Hey. Look at me."

Chloe does. It's strange, seeing the fear that the mirror usually throws back at Max, right there in someone like Chloe's eyes.

Somehow, it makes her braver.

"You are _not_ a loser. You're kind, and smart, and funny. And maybe you're just a bit...lost right now. That's okay. It happens. It can happen to _anyone_. But please don't think you have to find your way alone. Your mom obviously loves you. You've got Rachel. And...you've got me. Whenever you need me."

Chloe's eyes are huge, and too fragile.

Max decides to take drastic action.

"I'll bring my sandwich board, too! Bearing only the most positive of slogans! I'll march up and down in front of you, whenever you forget how...amazing you are. That's a Price I'm totally willing to pay."

Chloe blinks. "Did you just...? Oh, God, Max!" Chloe groans. It turns into a laugh, then a gasp, and a frantic cough. She looks away, even as her grip on Max's hand tightens. She mumbles, "You brat! You'll make me..."

She cuffs at her eyes. When she looks at Max again, they're a little red and a lot better. When Chloe smiles, it fills all the cracks in Max's heart.

"You're something else, Max. Though I think we need to check the date on your pun license. It appears to have expired."

Max shakes her head. "Scurrilous lies! My puns are my best feature. I could be a mushroom, I'm such a fun guy!"

Chloe makes it all the way through a real laugh, this time. "No. No more! I'll revoke your license! You'll never pun again. I'm warning you, Max!"

"You'll come around. My pun game is too strong for you to resist for long. My rhymes are the real crimes."

Chloe giggles, and it's pure delight, in the expression and the reception.

"Oh, you are the worst of nerds. And the best of nerds. Thanks, Max. For...everything. Except the puns!"

"No problem. And how dare you. And, um, it doesn't need to be today, but I want to hear the long version of your story, too. I want to hear it all. I want to know you, Chloe Elizabeth Price."

"Sounds good, Maxwell Smart. And...I feel the same about you." Chloe's grin is like an electromagnet. When she switches it on, it's a sudden and tremendous force that pulls Max in. "Especially if you mean Biblical knowing!"

Max didn't, but now she's finding it hard to think about anything else. And now she's blushing, and, oh, Chloe's such a _jerk_ , a really pretty jerk, and so freaking _tall_ , and...say words, Max!

"W-wowser! See? You have _amazing_ talents. Moment-ruining talents!"

Chloe gasps. "I _do_. I totally do! You're right. I-I can ruin anything I set my mind to! You've given me a new purpose, Max!"

Max doesn't even try to stifle a giggle. "That wasn't supposed to be career advice!"

"But it is! It's amazing advice. With so many applications! I'll show you. Dude, bust out your camera and I'll photobomb you into next week! I am the nuclear option of photobombs. You'll be like, why does that squirrel have blue hair? Have I discovered a mutant squirrel? But, nah, it's just me. Wrecking _all_ your framing!"

Max is giddy with the relief of steering Chloe into a better mood and the conversation away from questions of sex, and attraction, and sexual attraction.

She grins and says, "Like you could ever ruin a photo you're in!"

Max wonders if she might be able to start a semaphore revival. The downside, if it even can be _considered_ a downside, would be having to carry a pair of flags around. The upside would be never having to use her mouth to make stupid word-sounds ever again.

Chloe just stares at her, and Max finds herself incapable of noises, when noises might, for once, be useful. She finally squeaks, "I mean-"

Chloe reaches up and brushes a strand of hair away from Max's mouth.

Max stops trying to talk.

Chloe's fingertips graze Max's cheek, scattering thought but not coherence. Max's whole self forms around the impulse to lean into that warmth, that touch.

Chloe's hand lingers on her cheek.

Chloe says, "I think you're beautiful, too, Max."

Max gulps. She reaches for the right words.

Max says, "Uh. I wanna photograph you, so bad."

Max's brain facepalms.

* * *

Chloe's aware of her skin pressing back against the emotions seeking to escape a physical shell too frail to contain or express them. The rest of Chloe's sensory bandwidth is devoted to uploading a Maximum of detail.

She'll never admit to the pun out loud.

Right now, Chloe's taking in the softness of Max's cheek, the cobalt blue of her worried eyes, the wince at her own words, the blush that deepens in their wake, the frequency at which her body shakes, the scent of her skin, her hair, the way her freckles make a map that, if Chloe can only learn to read it, she's sure she'll be able to navigate her life by.

Chloe says, "Okay."

Max pulls away, fumbles out her camera. By the time she's deployed it, her eyes are _refined_ cobalt: strong and lustrous.

Chloe says, "So, uh. What should I do? Should I pose, or...?"

Flash, click, whirr.

Max lowers the camera, smiling. "Nah. I like you just the way you are."

Chloe laughs. "Smooth, Max. A little cheesy, but hella smooth!"

Max blushes and busies herself looking at the developing photo.

At some point in the course of the morning, Max seems to have damaged the escapement mechanism in Chloe's heart. It lurches and thumps with reckless irregularity as Chloe closes in on Max again.

"It's a good shot. You look really good, Chloe." Max looks up, happy. 

Chloe doesn't look at the photograph. "So do you, Max. Hey. Uh, I wanna kiss you. _So_ bad."

Max looks down for a moment, making Chloe brace herself for pain that will, she knows, be worse than breaking her leg skating, worse than flunking out of school, worse than Rachel saying, "No."

Max tucks away her camera and her new photo. She looks up, nervous.

Max says, "Okay."

Max stretches up and steadies herself by putting her hands on Chloe's waist. Chloe leans down, one hand on Max's cheek, the other trailing fingers down Max's neck, bringing up goosebumps and making her gasp.

Chloe's gentle when their lips meet, apparently _too_ gentle. Max reaches up and pulls on Chloe's neck. Chloe leans in and parts Max's lips with her own. She sucks Max's lower lip into her mouth and pulls away a little, then closes in again, fierce and hungry, and oh...

Chloe can still taste blueberries and syrup on Max's tongue. And something better, something uniquely Max, that lights up the pleasure centres of her brain like the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree.

When they part, Max says, softly, so softly, "I meant to ask...what's your favourite movie?"

And Chloe laughs, and pulls Max into a tight embrace, and punctuates her answer, " _Blade Runner_ ," with kisses into Max's hair.

Max snuggles into her. "Oh. Uh, which cut?"

And Chloe would throw her over her shoulder, and carry her to Sue, and drive them to Vegas, right there, if she had the gas money.

* * *

They do make it all the way to the lighthouse, eventually.

They sit on the bench and look out across the bay.

No one disturbs their peace.

Max takes photos. Chloe proves a formidable bodyguard, letting not a single squirrel get close.

They talk.

Not about everything. There's more to say about themselves and more to find out about each other than can be covered in a single day. But they lay the foundations of understanding, and find assurance, unexpressed but undeniable, that there will be other days to build something more between them.

When they leave, neither tries to find an excuse so that they can hold hands.

They just hold hands.

The whole way back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks very much for reading!
> 
> And for all the comments, and the kudos, and the kindness!
> 
> Special thanks again to CanonWright, the artist formerly known as sachii, aka melonbreadmondays (on tumblr), aka a lovely person who is nice, for the fan art and the signal boost.
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this, and that I'll maybe see you some other when and where.
> 
> Take care!
> 
> PS Rachel wanted to say hello. She refuses to say goodbye, though, preferring to say TTFN.


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